


Legend of the Vampire Diaries

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Legend of the Seeker, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Gen, Humor, Powerful Magic, Romance, Wizard of Oz References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Powerful magic strands Damon in the Midlands with The One True Seeker, and Elijah at Shota's mercy. Unknowingly, both vampires find themselves heading for the Black Hills where Zedd and Shota both believe a portal back to Mystic Falls exists. That is if they can survive "crazy ninja chicks", guards in chainmail (so last century), and dacra attacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No, Seriously.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon finds himself in the Midlands

Damon brushed at his leather jacket, and shook his head, dislodging a powdery substance. He glanced around the unfamiliar forest and stared back at the four people who were staring at him.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded. "And what the hell are you wearing? Please don't tell me it's a Renaissance fair."

The younger man stepped forward. "I'm Richard, the Seeker. This is Kahlan, the Mother Confessor, my grandfather Zedd, the First Wizard, and Cara, a Mord'Sith. Where did you come from? You just appeared out of thin air."

"I sense powerful magic," Zedd intoned.

"Oh, yes. Witches. Goddamn witches," Damon groused, thinking about Bonnie, who was probably behind his current predicament. "I was just minding my own business and the next thing I know I'm here. Which is where, exactly?"

"The Midlands," Kahlan said, apparently attempting to be helpful.

Damon stared up at the sky and then at his ring. He wasn't on fire, which was good, and meant his ring still worked. However he was fairly certain this world wasn't the same as his own. It felt different, somehow, something in the very air.

"I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore," he quipped.

"Is that where you're from? Kansas?" Richard's eyes were wide with what Damon guessed was concern.

Damon repressed the urge to roll his eyes. He was gratified to see that Cara did not. He was very impressed with her cleavage and tight leather clothes too.

"If some witch woman is behind this, of course we'll try to put it right," Zedd said. So, not a feminist utopia, Damon thought. The women here were carrying weapons, but magic? Women using it, bad, men like Zedd using it, good, if he was reading the situation right. Which was fine with him; daylight rings were the only good reasons for having a witch around.

Damon nodded forlornly and decided to play along. "A witch woman did this on purpose."

Kahlan fixed him with a stern glare however. "That's not really true, is it? What is your name?"

"Damon." Crap, what fresh hell was this? Some sort of lie detecting magic? Or just an Elena-like ability to see into whatever was left of his soul? "Look, I want to get back home. I need to help Elena."

Kahlan relaxed, as well she might. It was the truth, and if he was painting himself as needing to rescue a damsel, so be it. People tended to appreciate that kind of thing.

Zedd asked Damon some questions about his world, which ranged from the odd (how many suns?) to the bizarre (did they have persimmons?). The notion of an MP3 player delighted and baffled the wizard in equal parts, and Damon decided not to mention aeroplanes.

"We'll have to go to the Black Hills," Zedd declared. "I have a feeling the rocks there may help me in unravelling this conundrum."

"Seriously? You guys speak like this all the time?" Damon asked.

"The wizard does," Cara drawled. She gave a whistle and five horses trotted into view.

"Where did they come from?" Damon asked, trying to remember the last time he'd ridden, and trying to forget that time a horse had bitten him.

Cara shrugged. "They're here when we need them, as many as we require. Otherwise we walk."

"That doesn't even make sense," Damon protested. It could be argued that magic didn't make sense, but he'd seen magic in action. Horses…horses were not magical. And these were horses, not even unicorns or whatever.

"Do you want our help or not?" Cara asked, mounting with ease.

It occurred to Damon that he'd been very lucky – suspiciously lucky - to fall in with a wizard who could send him home, along with the wizard's naïve grandson – not to mention two gorgeous women. So he bowed towards Kahlan. "After you, my lady."

She gave him a look that said she wasn't sure if he was mocking her or not, and chose a horse.

"Have you ridden before, Damon?" Richard asked.

"A long time ago. But you know what they say. It's like riding a bicycle."

Richard gave him a blanker than his usual blank look. "What is a bis-ek-kel?"

Damon sighed. "Never mind." He had no idea how far it was to the Black Hills, but he was sure it was going to be a long ride.

***

Things were going fine until a bunch of knights attacked them. Damon's horse apparently didn't do fights, because the little bastard threw him. When Damon got to his feet, cursing the animal and thanking his vampire constitution alike, the others had dismounted or been thrown too and their horses were nowhere in sight. He decided to go with dismounted since his companions were already engaged in beautifully choreographed combat that resembled a music video more than any fight Damon had ever been in.

Kahlan's hair swept around as she fought with two daggers – didn't it get in her eyes? Shouldn't she at least tie it back? Then she grabbed a soldier by the throat and the next thing Damon saw was the man turn on his comrades.

Richard was hacking and slashing with his sword. Somehow, despite turning his back on one opponent to deliver an unnecessarily showy blow to another, and leaping around like a demented bunny, Richard felled soldier after soldier. If these men weren't so stupid they could take him out at any time.

Meanwhile Cara was hitting her opponents with some tiny leather club and then kicking them in various parts of their anatomy. Zedd was sensibly standing back, occasionally lifting a gnarled hand to send a soldier flying through the air and, once, set one on fire. That was bad, Damon thought uneasily. Fire was not his friend.

One of the soldiers had noticed him and ran over to Damon. He arched a brow in disbelief. "Chain mail? So last century." The soldier was quicker with his sword than he'd expected and Damon got a cut across one cheek before he used his supernatural speed to seize his attacker and snap his neck. A quick glance around showed that the battle was over, and his companions were the only ones left standing.

"Damon! Are you…." Richard trailed off. "What happened to your face?"

"Just a cut," Damon said, before he realised that his fangs were showing. He quickly got himself under control, dropping the corpse to the ground. By the time he'd joined them, as they regrouped in the centre of the field, the cut had already healed.

"What are you?" Kahlan demanded. She really wasn't Damon's favourite person in the group.

He shrugged and chose to tell the truth. "A vampire."

As he'd hoped, they'd never heard of his kind. He explained, laying on the angst when he explained how Katherine had turned him without his permission, and highlighting how, while he had to drink blood to survive, he'd learned not to kill. In fact, besides the blood drinking, they were, Damon said, much like humans. Except for the growing old and dying part.

He omitted the part about sunlight and his ring, lest Kahlan use this information against him.

"He's telling the truth," Kahlan said. "Mostly."

"And what are you, Little Miss Lie Detector?" Damon demanded. "I saw you turn that man against his brothers in arms with one touch."

"She's the Mother Confessor," Richard said. "I did tell you."

Damon waved his hands impatiently. "I figured you meant she was head of some weird religious cult."

So Richard explained all about Confessors, with some pertinent interjections from Kahlan. "And I'm the One True Seeker," Richard said with pride, which seemed like it was going to be a long story and a less interesting one than the one about Confessors. So Damon pointed to Cara.

"And you? Mort-thingy? That leather a BDSM thing or do you belong to some rival religious order?"

"Of a sort, before I chose to follow Richard, the true Lord Rahl." Cara's voice was rich and her tone half-serious and half-mocking. She was definitely his favourite in the group, until such time as the wizard sent him home and earned Damon's temporary gratitude. "I am Mord'Sith."

Damon stepped in close. "I am very pleased to meet you. As you are me." He was deliberately trying to compel her. To his disappointment she was unaffected.

"I prefer taller men."

"Ouch." Damon struck himself in the chest with a fist. "Come on, Cara, let me show you my fangs. Once you go vamp you never go ba-"

Vervain didn't hurt nearly as much as the agony that ran through his veins. Damon found himself on the grass, screaming in pain.

"That's enough," Richard said. "Damon?"

Damon rolled onto his back and stared up at the cloudless blue sky. "What the hell?"

"It's an Agiel. It's a magical weapon. Are you all right? Cara, he's not of our world, you might have killed him!"

Richard went up a little in Damon's estimation. Cara went down some, no longer being his favourite. The little leather device, an Agiel, got filed into Do Not Want. No wonder Cara was wearing those ridiculous gloves.

After a few moments Damon got to his feet and assured Richard he was fine. Zedd pointed in what seemed to be a random direction and they all started walking.

"What about the horses?" Damon asked.

Richard shrugged. "They're not here right now." Then he moved to walk alongside Kahlan.

Zedd came to walk with Damon and started telling him of all the weird creatures in this world; Damon came up the equivalents he knew of, fictional mostly. Calthrops were werewolves, for example, and damn werewolves were real enough. However the Nygaax was a zombie or, more likely, a mummy, but as far he knew, zombies weren't real. Although give a witch enough training and motivation and who knew what chaos she couldn't cause.

In fact, witches were the thing on which Damon and Zedd bonded. Damon had a laundry list of complaints about Bonnie and her accursed relatives, while Zedd had an angsty tale about some broad named Shota. (Damon had a feeling that back home the word had something do with young anime characters but didn't feel like explaining that to Zedd). They groused for over an hour about all the trouble magically gifted women had caused them. Witches. Can't live with them without trouble, can't kill them without someone whining about it.

They made camp near a stream and Zedd made stew. Richard insisted on telling Damon the story of how he was destined to kill Darken Rahl.

"Seriously? Who calls their kid Darken?" Damon asked, but no-one took any notice.

As far as he could make out, Cara had been sharing Darken's bed before Richard converted her with his puppy dog eyes, but since Richard was obsessed with Kahlan's boobies (very nice boobies, Damon had to admit), she was surely a little put out at her new living arrangements.

Damon offered to take a turn on guard duty, but Richard insisted he was a guest and they couldn't allow it, which was a polite way of saying they didn't trust him. Whatever.

As Zedd snored softly, Damon thought about his Compulsion and how it hadn't worked on Cara, probably wouldn't work on a Confessor, may or may not work on a wizard (and the kickback if he tried might be a damn sight more painful than that he got whenever he pissed Bonnie off), and might work on Richard. It disturbed him, making him feel more vulnerable than he was accustomed to.

On the other hand, there were no Original vampires or Hunters or any other of the type of creatures Mystic Falls seemed to attract. So he made the most of it, and slept soundly.

***

The next morning the horses were back. Damon didn't even bother to comment on it. The five of them rode for an hour before some crazy ninja chicks in some unfortunately coloured red-orange garb set upon them.

"Seriously, how many wacky religious cults do you have?" Damon asked after the women were all killed or had fled and he learned they were Sisters of the Dark, not to be confused with the identically dressed Sisters of the Light. He was sure Caroline would have phrased the question as such, as well as made some cutting remarks about their fashion sense – oh, please, no, surely he wasn't missing vampire Barbie?

After that things were quiet until Richard had to rescue a sheep that was stuck in a briar patch. Damon pretended to fish when it was time to gather some food for the evening meal, and pulled a face at the stew.

"I'd kill for some bourbon," he said. Food he could do without, but to be asked to be sober was too much. He tried explaining the concept to Richard but in the end said it was like really good, really strong ale. The thought he might never taste it again – might never go the movies again, might never get to bathe in his beloved bathtub again, worried Damon, not that he'd ever admit it. This world was less advanced than the one he'd grown up in, more magical than the reality he usually occupied, and altogether missing in essentials like bourbon and Elena.

To his disgust, he found he was homesick. He lay awake most of the night, staring at unfamiliar stars.

***

Eventually he must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes it was light again, the weather was chilly, and everything was covered in dew. Damon huddled by the fire, trying to get his clothes dry. Kahlan was brushing her hair and he watched her for a while, wondering how she kept it so shiny, and how her dress was so white without even a hint of a grass stain. Probably magic.

They rode – the horses were still there, amazing – for three hours without encountering anything untoward. After a light lunch, another hour's riding brought them in sight of a mountain range that Zedd said was the Black Hills.

By mid afternoon, they'd climbed halfway up the largest peak, stepping out onto a surprisingly even plateau. To the east lay a more treacherous trail to the summit, but near that path was a group of medium sized boulders currently serving as a seat for two people.

"Shota!" Zedd stepped forward, angry. The man sitting beside the red haired woman got to his feet. He was dressed oddly, his lower half matching Damon's idea of what constituted clothes and shoes, but with a shirt much like Richard's.

"Damon," Elijah said. "Fancy meeting you here."


	2. Charmed, I'm sure.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah and Shota join forces

Elijah had been minding his own business, sipping coffee outside a charming little restaurant, when WHAM.

Next thing he knew, he was lying face down on damp grass. It was all terribly undignified and as he sat up he reached for his pocket handkerchief to wipe his face.

"Are you all right?"

Elijah took in his surrounding. Mossy trees were growing on three sides, while a wide river flowed to his left. This clearing didn't look like Mystic Falls and everything felt wrong, as if magic were in every dust mote. He fixed his gaze on a woman with long red hair.

"I'm fine," he assured her, smoothing out his jacket. "Please excuse the interruption."

She stared at him. "You're not from here. I can smell magic on you."

Elijah raised one well-kept eyebrow. "What does it smell like?"

The woman took a step forward, a sly smile on her face. "Like a pool bathed in sunlight. I'm Shota. I'm a witch woman."

Elijah did his best not to react. He was sure a witch had got him into this and it stood to reason a witch could get him out of it. "Elijah." He gave her a bow, because it seemed the right thing to do. "Charmed, I'm sure." He reached for her hand and pressed the back of her hand to his lips.

"Where are you from?" Shota asked.

"I have no idea how to describe it to you without knowing where I am. May as well be a galaxy far, far away, for all I know." Elijah looked around for a stick and crouched down near the river, sketching in a patch of mud with the pointy bit of the branch.

Drawing the solar system didn't help much. Shota understood the basics of the sun and the moon and the tides, but the idea that there might be other planets seemed somewhat beyond her.

"Can you be more specific?"

So Elijah drew a rough world map and pointed to America, and when she asked him to be even more specific, he started afresh. This time he drew a map of Mystic Falls. He explained how it was full of magical energy and Shota pointed to a mountain range on his map and then stood and pointed to the trees to their north.

"There's a mountain range, the Black Hills. Very old, very magical. It's possible they exist in both our worlds and form a gateway of sorts between them." She turned back to Elijah. "I could take you there."

"At what price?"

Shota shrugged. "You don't belong here. You didn't intend to be here. I want to help."

Elijah sensed something else but he didn't press the issue. "Then I accept your offer."

***

Shota asked about the witches in his world and Elijah gave same vague answers about them serving nature. He wasn’t sure who was behind his trip to this so-called Midlands, but he suspected Bonnie Bennett, who had become more powerful every time he'd encountered her. Quite how or why she'd sent him here he didn't know, but he was going to be sure to question her about it _at length_ if he got home.

Shota tripped on a bramble vine and Elijah moved swiftly to catch her. She stared up at him appreciatively. Elijah grinned and set her back on her feet.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Elijah gestured and Shota continued to lead the way.

They'd been walking for about an hour when Shota stopped and took a detour to a nearby settlement where she purchased some cooked chicken legs and a large flask of wine. Elijah shared the meal with her, not because he needed it (and he really wasn't hungry for anything, let alone food, right now), but because as far as Shota knew he was human and he didn't see the point in disabusing her of that notion.

 

As night drew on, Shota stepped into a clearing. To Elijah's surprise the clearing had a deep covering of fallen leaves, a fire pit in the very centre, and a blanket with a picnic basket sitting to one side of the pit.

"More magic?" he asked.

"It pays to be prepared," Shota said cryptically. She took up a small branch and stirred at the fire pit which obligingly burst into flames. Well if witches in this world had well stocked bolt holes all over the place, so be it.

They ate in companionable silence. Shota had acquired a fur coat from somewhere, but held her hands out to warm them by the flames.

"Tell me more of your world," she said.

"I wouldn’t know where to begin."

"Then tell me more about you."

Elijah leaned over the fire. "I'm not sure I know where to start there, either."

"You're not human."

He drew back, surprised. She didn't seem afraid of him. Shota laughed. "Is magic so rare in your world that you hide who you are?"

"People hide many aspects of themselves, mostly for their own safety," he returned. "My kind, and those like us, do walk unseen by most."

"What do you call your kind?"

"I am a vampire."

Shota tried out the unfamiliar word a few times. "What does it mean?"

"I don't think anyone knows for sure. The term has developed over time." He was being deliberately obtuse. He faked a yawn. "Is it safe to sleep here?"

"Yes. No one can enter here without me knowing it."

Elijah settled himself down on the leaves. Shota wrapped herself in her coat and lay down on the blanket. Far away a wolf howled. He wondered if they had werewolves here, and, if they did, what they were called.

***

The next morning they left the clearing and the entrance vanished into the trees and bushes, becoming invisible even to Elijah's supernatural gaze.

They continued walking in the direction Shota indicted, until Elijah froze. Shota stopped, on high alert. They were being watched, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Elijah murmured. He got what he asked for, which turned out to be not what he'd expected.

A metal blade came flying through the air and Elijah narrowly avoided it, though it caught his knuckle. He let his fangs show, enraged. Three women dressed in red veils advanced on them and Shota uttered what Elijah assumed was a spell and sent the one closest to her flying.

Elijah used his superior speed to move behind one of their attackers and snap her neck. The remaining woman however advanced quickly and stabbed him in the chest with another of the strange blades – they resembled shuriken, from what he'd seen. He grabbed her and bit down on her neck. Blood, rich, healing blood, filled his mouth even as white hot pain radiated from the blade embedded in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him into unconsciousness. The pain and pleasure fought for dominance but at last his victim began to weaken, giving him the upper hand.

The woman's heart stopped and he dropped her drained corpse to the floor. He fell to his knees.

"Elijah!" Shota hurried over to him, apparently not in the least disturbed at his actions or gory appearance. "You're hurt."

Understatement, much? Elijah nodded, gritting his teeth. Dammit, the sun was burning him, smoke rising from his skin. "The daylight," he gasped. "I need shelter."

Shota was quick on the uptake and didn't question him at all. With a wave of her hand, they were beneath a nearby tree. Elijah sank down against the tree trunk, grateful for the blessed shade.

The burning subsided and Shota knelt alongside him. "It's a dacra," she said, pointing to the blade still sticking out of his chest. "It's a magical weapon."

Which probably explained the power struggle he'd engaged in while he was killing the thrower of the blade. "Can you remove it?"

"You killed the one who threw it, so it should be safe to pull it out, but I can't promise anything. I've never dealt with one of your kind before."

"I can't be killed," he said, but a sudden wave of fear swept over him. What if the rules were different here? Why was he suddenly being burned by the sun?

Shota grasped hold of the dacra and Elijah closed his eyes, bracing himself. It didn't hurt as much coming out as it had going in, and he felt his healing powers kick in as soon the blade was removed.

"That's impressive," Shota said. "Your hand, too, and those burns. They're almost gone."

Elijah glanced at his hand. He'd forgotten about the injury to his knuckle. His expression darkened as he saw a crack in his daylight ring.

"What's wrong?"

Elijah held out his hand to her. "My ring. I never thought it could be so easily damaged. It protects my kind from sunlight, which harms us." It seemed foolish to hide the fact from her now, when she'd seen him almost bursting into flames right in front of her.

Shota took this in her stride. "It's a magical artefact, this ring?"

"Yes. The witch who created my kind made it for us." What would he do without one? He might not die, but he could be hurt, incapacitated – and he had no desire to skulk in the shadows. Damn dacra.

Shota rubbed her thumb over the damaged stone. "Perhaps I can fix it."

There could be no harm in her attempting it, so Elijah slipped off his ring, feeling somehow naked without it, and pressed it into her palm. She gave him a smile.

"It seems I'm very lucky," Elijah commented, shifting into a more comfortable position against the tree trunk. "Of all the places in this world, I fell at the feet of a powerful witch."

"It's probably not coincidence," Shota said, examining the ring. "Magic can attract magic." She recited several spells, none of which did any good. Finally, she held the ring between her right finger and thumb and pressed her left hand over the stone. She didn't use words, just intense concentration. Elijah watched with interest as an orange glow radiated from her hands. When she handed him the ring back it was slightly warm and the crack was completely gone, and Shota was panting a little from exertion, and proud of herself.

Elijah slipped the ring back on and stuck his hand out to one side, letting the afternoon sun play upon his bare skin. It didn't hurt in the least. "Thank you," he said.

Shota nodded, toying with a lock of long hair. "You feed on blood."

He'd rather she hadn't found out in the way she had, but it couldn't be helped now. "Yes."

"You need to feed on blood?"

"Yes."

"Do you have to kill?"

"No. But I think that little incident should count as self defence." Elijah tipped his head. "I'm not going to hurt the witch who just saved me." Shota didn’t know witches could hurt vampires without lifting a finger and he wasn't about to tell her that. But he was also telling the truth. He needed Shota alive and it would be in his best interests to protect her rather than hurt, or allow anyone else, to hurt her.

Shota shrugged. "There are always more Sisters of the Dark," she said, which struck Elijah as rather cold blooded – and sensible, if bands of these assassins went around preying on innocents. "I just wondered…when you bite someone…" One hand went to her throat, caressing it.

Elijah knew what she was hinting at. "It can be an intimate act," he confirmed.

Shota nodded and then got to her feet. "If you're feeling better, we should move on. There's a much more suitable place to camp further on. And you should wipe your face. We'll cause alarm otherwise."

"Can't you transport us to the Black Hills the way you moved us beneath the tree?" Not that he minded walking, but he had to wonder if it wouldn't be safer as well as quicker to use magic – especially if they were going to run into more Sisters of the Dark.

Maybe it was too much magic to move both of them that far, because Shota frowned and he hoped he hadn't upset her. Witches who were upset were never fun to be around.

"I could," she said. "But I won't. A witch arrives exactly when and where she intends to be."

Suitably cryptic, he thought, as he used his handkerchief to clean off his face and hand. It reminded him of something…"I don't suppose you've ever heard of Gandalf the White?"

She shook her head. "Did he study at Aydindril?"

"I don't think so." Elijah hid a smile as he buttoned his jacket to hide the bloodstained shirt. "Am I presentable?"

She gazed at him a little longer than was necessary. "Very. Come."

***

Shota asked a few questions about vampires and Elijah divulged a few more details but kept his other weaknesses to himself until such time they became apparent – he hoped vervain didn't grow here. They didn't encounter any further enemies or distractions and made good time until sunset, when Shota found them another magical campsite. Once again they ate and then sat next to each other, nursing goblets of wine, and staring at the campfire.

"Is there someone waiting for you back home?" Shota asked.

Elijah considered. Klaus wasn't waiting for him. Rebekah…his family was important to him, but they were all so caught up in their own pettiness that he never felt that he was that important to them. Would they notice he was gone? Would they miss him? He had his doubts.

"No one special," he said at last.

Shota jumped on that. "What was her name?"

Elijah took a swallow of wine. "I'm not sure I understand."

"The one who was special. I can see you had someone like that once. I know, because, well…his name was Zeddicus," Shota said. "My soul mate. He was tall and beautiful and powerful and I fell in love. We could have been so formidable together. We could have accomplished anything. But he betrayed me, and broke my heart. I've had other lovers, but nothing compares to what we had. Now we're sometimes enemies and sometimes uneasy allies, and it give me both pain and pleasure that he still lives."

She expected him to confide in her in turn. Elijah considered for a moment, thought about everything Shota had done for him so far. Why not? "Katerina," he said, the name still a knife in his heart. "Her name was Katerina, at least when I met her, and I rue the day I ever laid eyes on her. She came between me and my brother, she betrayed me, and yet I have never been able to stop loving her."

"I knew you were a kindred spirit," Shota said softly. She leaned over and put one hand on his knee.

"Does it really not concern you, that I am a vampire?"

"I am a witch. We're both different underneath than our surface appearances suggest. Both older. Both more powerful." Shota's hand slid up his thigh. "I could look like her, if you describe her to me. Katerina."

Elijah placed one of his hands over hers, stopping its upward journey. "No. If I make love to you, it will be to _you_. I'm done pretending." He'd pretended before, had girls dress like Katerina, even wear wigs and affect her accent. He'd been stunned at the sight of Elena, every inch Katerina on the outside but completely the opposite on the inside. Perhaps that had been the final nail in the coffin of his love for Katerina; he didn't only want the outer appearance but the inner personality, and given how awful that personality was, what did that say about him? Enough was enough. He could never stop loving Katerina but he could stop pursuing her.

"Then you can? Make love?"

Elijah smiled. "Would you allow me to demonstrate?"

***

When Elijah woke up, Shota had a bowl of water on her lap and was staring into it morosely. When she caught him watching her she put the bowl aside and smoothed at her dress. "We should get going," she said.

"What's wrong, Shota?"

She shook her head. "I was scrying. But things are murky. I don't know what the future holds."

She'd say nothing more on the matter, and he gave up. She did present him with a shirt, something more in keeping with this world's fashion, from what he'd seen. It brought back memories of the past. He slipped it on, leaving behind his jacket, which seemed excessively incongruous with the blue tunic-style shirt.

They left the campsite and struck out for the Black Hills, now only a few miles away.

Despite the fact her clothes were very inappropriate for mountain climbing (and given the appearance of her coat the night before and his shirt this morning, why didn't she magic up something more practical, Elijah wondered), Shota easily led him to a wide plateau about half way up the mountain.

"Are we here?" Elijah asked when Shota sat down to rest on a nearby boulder.

"Yes. We just need to wait for a moment."

Elijah sat next to her. After a few minutes he heard the sound of someone else climbing the mountain. Several someones, if he wasn't mistaken. And…no, surely not. That petulant whining could only belong to Damon Salvatore.

A tall man appeared first, followed by a younger man with a sword, two women, and, yes, Damon.

"Shota!" The tall man stepped forward, angry. Damon stared at Elijah and he stood, a mocking smile on his lips.

"Damon," Elijah said. "Fancy meeting you here."


	3. No place like home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farewells are said

"You know this man, Damon?" Richard stepped forward in what Damon had to assume was a protective manner. He found it equal parts amusing and endearing.

"This is Elijah. He's like me."

Elijah pulled a face. "From your world, perhaps."

"And a vampire."

"I'm an Original." He gave a smirk.

Always with that Special Kind of Vampire crap! Damon gave a snarl, but Zedd stepped in front of him.

"Where did you find this one, Shota?"

"He fell almost into my lap," Shota purred. Shota, Damon remembered, was Zedd's witchy nemesis. Trust Elijah to have got himself a witch partner, while Damon ended up with Puppy Dog Richard and his Sexy But Deadly back up singers.

"Elijah, this is Zeddicus," Shota said, and Damon didn't miss Elijah's controlled, but obvious response to that information. Interesting. "Zeddicus, Elijah."

"This is the Mother Confessor, the One True Seeker, the One Mord'Sith who serves this particular Lord Rahl, and the aforementioned First Wizard Zeddicus something or other," Damon said. "If I get the Chief of the Sisters of Darkness, it's a full house."

"Sisters of the Dark," Kahlan corrected. "Damon, is it true? Elijah is like you?"

"Only older and not so gorgeous." Damon eyed Shota. "So do I get to go home or is there going to be some sort of magical scuffle?"

Zedd glared at Shota. She coolly eyed him back.

"Clearly we are here for the same purpose," Zedd said at last, making it sound like a grand pronouncement. Seriously, if they had Shakespeare or whatever in this world, Zedd should be performing it.

"This seems the most likely place for the portal," Shota agreed.

Zedd casually picked up a pebble. "There's strong magic here."

Damon rolled his eyes. He was pretty certain Cara did the same.

Zedd and Shota then launched into a battle of a sort other than the kind he'd expected. They began to argue. And argue. And _argue_. Magic was apparently more complex then it seemed. Damon quickly lost interest. He was getting hungry and there wasn't anyone around he dared eat. 

Richard stared off into space, maybe thinking about kittens or something. Kahlan alternated her time between making sure Shota and Zedd hadn't come to blows and staring adoringly at Richard. Cara stood impassively, watching everyone. Elijah had sat back down, mostly watching Shota with an expression that made Damon think he'd been right about his earlier suspicions. Had Elijah been playing Dracula and Mina Harker while Damon had been getting poked with an Agiel? Because that would so not be fair.

Eventually Shota and Zedd came to some sort of agreement in which they were "stronger together" and took each other's hands. Damon perked up at that, wondering if the whole magic-as-metaphor-for-sex thing he'd heard about was finally going to turn out to be true. Not that he wanted to see grandpa and the wacky witch of the west get it on, but because it might mean there could/should/ought to be sexy times back in his world, and he was going to mention it to Bonnie every single time he saw her.

In the end there was nothing more intimate than some chanting and then a shadow appeared on the rock face behind them. The inky surface shimmered.

"The portal is open," Zedd intoned, releasing Shota's hands.

"You sure I'm going home and not going to end up somewhere even more weird than this place?" Damon raised an eyebrow.

"I'll go and see," Zedd offered. He untied his belt, looped one end around his wrist, and gave the other end to Richard to hold. "If I don't return in five minutes, pull me back."

Elijah tapped Shota's shoulder and they drew aside. Damon kept half an eye on them, in case this was a trap of some sort, but they were almost as engrossed in each other as Kahlan and Richard. Shota lifted one hand and stroked Elijah's hair. Goddamn it, what was it with his hair? Damon's hair was so much more stylish. Really it was.

When Shota started scrabbling about in the dirt, Damon turned his attention back to the portal.

Zedd came back, holding a leaf. Shota moved to inspect it and Zedd described what could have been any woodland next to any road, but Damon hoped it was Mystic Falls.

Shota crushed the leaf between her fingers and lifted her green tinged fingers to her face, inhaling deeply. She nodded.

"We believe this is the way back to your world," Zedd said at last.

Finally. Damon nodded. "Well, thank you. Um, good luck with that whole defeating Darken Rahl thing." He gestured to Elijah. "You coming?"

Elijah shook his head. "No."

Damon blinked. "No?"

"There's nothing for me back there. No-one." Elijah gazed at Shota and Damon understood.

"Klaus might feel differently," he offered. But hey, getting away from the jackass hybrid was a point in favour of staying here, he supposed.

"I may not stay here forever. But I'm not going back. Not yet. I've made up my mind." Elijah slipped one arm around Shota's waist.

"You going to grow your hair out, start riding around on horseback and slaying dragons?"

"Perhaps."

Damon gave him a look that he hoped said "Whatever." Shota moved away from Elijah and pressed a stone into Damon's hand.

"This is an amulet," she said. "A stone from this mountain, bound with Elijah's hair. If you require his help –"

"I click my heels together three times and say 'there's no place like home?'" Damon suggested.

"You smash the pebble. It will send a summons back to us," Shota said.

Damon shrugged and put the pebble amulet thing into his pocket. "I don't anticipate needing your help."

"Then you won't ever need the amulet," Elijah said, unperturbed.

Damon held out his hand. "Then this is goodbye."

"I prefer _au-revoir_ ," Elijah said, and the two vampires shook hands like gentlemen. Stefan would be so proud.

Then Damon shook hands with Richard. He decided against trying for a kiss from any of the women, though Zedd pulled him into a hug.

"Well, so long…may the Force be with you," Damon said, and stepped through the portal.

***

"Damon!"

Grass and mud filled his vision. Ugh. Had Zedd ended up dumped unceremoniously on his face, Damon wondered, getting to his knees. Elena was beside him, concern written all over her face.

"I'm okay." He glanced around. No sign of the portal.

"We were trying to track you, and Bonnie got a signal from here, and we were driving along and all of a sudden you just appeared." Elena touched his cheek. "Where were you? You've been gone for days."

"Somewhere very strange," Damon said. He orientated on Bonnie and scowled at her. "You have a lot to answer for, Bonnie Bennett. And when Klaus asks where his brother is, you can explain how you sent him to another dimension."

"What are you talking about?" Bonnie seemed puzzled, which either she had no idea what she'd done, or hadn't been responsible. Either way, Damon had more important things to deal with right now.

"I need you to take me to a bar where they serve something other than ale that tastes like a cow already drank it, and where I can have someone to eat," Damon said.

"Damon!" But there was still warmth beneath her scolding and it made him glad that she cared so much.

"Fine. A blood bag, then. And after that I'll tell you everything."

Elena helped him to his feet, and he let her, because he was relieved beyond belief to see her again. As he climbed into the car, he let his fingers brush the pocket where the amulet was stored.

He wondered if Elijah would help Richard defeat Darken Rahl, or if he'd find some reason to side with the tyrant.

Mostly, he wondered just how long he could milk Elena's concern over his disappearance, and if he could maybe have some non-bagged blood. Preferably Elena's - though that of course, was a different kind of desire entirely.

Elena, beautiful, _wonderful_ , Elena. Damon sank back into his seat, relieved to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> The first of the fic was originally written for a legendland challenge.


End file.
